It's Just a Ride
by ms-citizenshiptest
Summary: Alternative look at the way Tony and Ziva come into each other's world via a metro train ride, which inevitably evolves into much more - AU.
1. Chapter 1

**It's just a ride, it's just a ride**

**No need to run, no need to hide**

**It'll take you round and round**

**Sometimes you're up**

**Sometimes you're down…**

It was only a brisk walk from the Navy Yard to the metro station on the Friday evening that was calling their names – whether for alcohol or for elf lord virtual words. Tony DiNozzo and his fellow probationary team member, Timothy McGee, made their way to the green line entrance. A few snickers came from the Italian as he watched the probie play the 'slip and compose yourself before people see you' game on the wet pavement. D.C. was certainly not kind when it came to the water excess. When it rained, it poured. "You should invest in some proper footwear, McGee. You know Italian gets you a long way," Tony perked his eyebrows out at him for emphasis, "and it does well with the ladies too."

The younger agent shook his head at his partner as he often did. "Not everything has to be about sex, you know."

Tony offered a playful smile in return – no agreement or argument involved. It spoke for itself. He went for the stairs instead of the packed escalator once they were out of the light drizzle that consumed the streets of the city. One foot at a time, they continued on down in attempt to avoid the never-ending crowds of people that were hurrying to catch the next train. The fabric of their work attire clung lightly to their skin but they battled through the slight chills it gave them in order to get a better spot on the metro platform. It was a strategic matter, the metro platform. If you were too far back, you'd never catch a train at rush hour. If you took center stage, you could risk your life flashing before your eyes with one shove. Strategy – as if their life's work didn't require enough analytical processing.

Their SmarTrip cards allowed them in and they hustled down to the platform. "Come on, McGoo! We're never going to – " Tony stopped short to find the end of their train leaving the platform. A low growl escaped from within his chest and he almost but pouted as he leveled down to the platform in the last few steps. "I should've driven to work today. I told _you,_" he emphasized with a turn on his heels. "I told you it was going to rain and now there's all this." He gestured to the massive crowd of people with soaking umbrellas reforming in clumps on the platform.

"Relax, Tony." McGee feared his response but his roll of the eyes was almost involuntary. He had it coming.

Tony began moving through the crowd, left shoulder first. There was no way they were going to get stuck all the way in the back by the railing. As much as he liked working with McGee – something he made sure not the share with the new field agent –, he wasn't absolutely chipper about spending the next couple of hours in a crowded station waiting for an even more crowded train to take them home. "Excuse me," he huffed. A few people let him through, others waved him off. "Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, excuse me – yeah, thanks. Sorry about that – federal agent coming through." He made it to an adequate position finally with McGee following suit a few steps behind.

McGee ran his fingers across his brow line and down his face. "You're unbelievable." He settled in the small space, looking down at his clothes to smooth out the wrinkles. The young Irish even considered escaping and choosing the scenic route through town, but it was too late. There was no way in hell he was going to make it out of the station with this amount of irritated people around. It was Friday, after all, and they were all irritated with the weather. Not to mention, they were all probably aching to go home.

Before responding, Tony loosened his collar as best he could. It was getting pretty warm and he wasn't in the mood to sweat it out. He was set on explaining his reasons to McGee – there was a great episode of Magnum coming on soon and he'd kill a man before he was forced to miss it. It was one of his favorite Magnum episodes, and the scenes began to paint in colorfully in his mind. It was a season 3 episode, a great season. T.C. and Higgins were forced to aid the breakout of a prison inmate who seemed to know all about them. It even reminded him of one of his own escapades in years past when he posed as an escaped prisoner to get information on the location of a stash of valuable stolen Iraqi antiquities.

His mental viewing cut short, however, when his ears caught sound of a radiant laugh that echoed through the Branch Avenue to Greenbelt platform. It was a wonder how he ever heard it above all the other chatter around him. Even more so, he wondered how something as simple as someone's intriguing laugh could make his heart flutter for a brief moment. DiNozzo men had anything but fluttering hearts.

Tony's eyes scanned the parameter as far as his eyes could go, but nothing seemed to stand out. He looked right and left, and then right again. With no success, he looked over his shoulder to try and zero in. "You hear that, McGee?" He questioned without further explanation.

"What? Your mental stability evaporating into thin air?" McGee's eyes met the Italian's.

He in turn gifted him with a roll of the eyes. "I heard…" Tony scratched his face with a couple of fingers, feeling the stubble that had started to reappear in the last few days. "Definitely a woman," he confirmed his own potential findings. "Probably a brunette," the Italian mused.

McGee's head shook with closed eyes in response. "You sniffing them out, DiNozzo?"

"Ha," a dry and short response was supplied. His green eyes scanned the area again, though this time they settled on a young woman who was pulling a cellular device from her ear. Her dark curls danced around her face with the small shoves she was getting from the crowd. Though he couldn't exactly see her face, he guessed nothing less than that she was particularly attractive. Her olive skin radiated from a distance, something that brought a captivating smile onto his features. "Come on," Tony nudged his head in the mysterious woman's direction. The younger agent groaned in response, not thinking quickly enough on his feet of a reason to shoot down the offer. They couldn't get that far anyway. Too many people, and he [McGee] felt the wind start to rise with the approaching train.

The two NCIS agents settled a few inches nearer. Even if he didn't get the opportunity to speak to this woman, at least the two of them were closer to gaining entrance to the train's sliding doors. The metro train continued nearing closer, bringing with it an even stronger gust of wind. It was Tony's lucky day. Just as his eyes turned into the woman's direction, he caught a glimpse of the heavy locks sweep away from her face to reveal her features. She quickly raised a hand to settle her wild strands and her eyes finally found his.

It held them in a trance of some sort – no one else around, no train to distract them. Her eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity but she was soon pulled from the thought. The train's doors were awaiting the new passengers and she was pushed along for not having moved. Though the pressure on her back almost caused a fall, the Israeli he had yet to meet gracefully caught herself. Tony's grin spread into a wide smile, pleased with what he'd call 'a win'. They continued on into the train through separate doors, giving her enough time to compose herself and fix her winded hair and clothes while walking through the train car.

As predicted, there were no empty seats – something that she noted fairly quickly from the short stroll down the aisle. Not minding the time on her feet, her fingers wrapped around one of the metal bars. Her other hand cushioned through her curls, feeling as though the wind had won the battle against her moments ago. Her eyes settled on her reflection in the window when the train began on its way.

"Next stop: Waterfront," the conductor announced. "Please beware that all stops are brief."

Before she was fully pleased with her appearance, her eyes trailed in the train window to her left. The eyes that held in them many secrets, as she had often heard, found a familiar face that had caught her attention at the previous station. Her slightly pink lips lined into a tight smile before she looked him up and down. Observing her prey, an activity she'd mastered in all of her 20-some years.

Their mutual acknowledgement may have remained silent if it were not for the unexpected stop of the train into the Waterfront station. She, who had yet to be named, lost her footing in the slightest and swung closer to him. Stopping only a few centimeters apart, she pulled her head back just in time and quickly apologized.

Tony only smiled and pushed back a few stray curls away from her curls without hesitation. When it actually registered, however, he wasn't sure how to reason his actions. "Uh," he offered quietly at a loss for actual words that belonged to the English language. "Where you headed?"_ Good recovery, DiNozzo. Working with Gibbs has definitely kept you on your feet – remember to get the man a large coffee on Monday as a thank you. _

She contemplated whether to share a lie or the truth. In the end she did not really have anything to lose. He was a man on a train, and she a woman on one. The city she was visiting brought with it many interesting opportunities and experiences for her, it seemed. "Columbia Heights," she went with the truth.

Tony nodded in response, a small smile on his face. "Nice part of town," he commented. "You like the area?"

Their eyes danced around each other to take in each other's features. "Perhaps," her voice was low. Tony leaned in closer to listen – something both necessary and wanted, he mentally argued in case the inquiry ever came up to clarify. "I have not been in the city long enough."

The Italian's face beamed at that. If there was something Tony DiNozzo loved doing, it was playing tour guide to a beautiful woman who was new to the city. The weather was rather perfect, somewhat cold and rainy. It held so much potential for him and all of his ways for the ladies. The ideas ran through his mind, his senses tingling. "It's one of a kind; I think you'll really like it. And the people are great too," he motioned to himself hoping to get a smile out of her and give him a cue of how well this conversation was going.

The ends of her lips slightly curled and she rolled her head back to take a better look at him. "You are quite…."

"….Cocky."

"Confident," he corrected. "You know sometimes foreigners get confused with the English language." They stared at each other in silence again as the train swayed on its way through the underground tunnels.

She let him have that one with a shrug of a shoulder. It was light and carefree, showing him that she only took his comment in the lightest of ways. In fact, it seemed that she was rather enjoying the little tug-of-war they engaged in for the duration of the train ride. "Americans are quite insecure, yes?" She responded with a smirk. It was a jab at his earlier correction.

"Oh? I don't think anyone has ever insulted me without introducing themselves first."

Her features slightly softened and she extended her hand. "Ziva – Ziva David."

"Ziva," he tasted the name on his lips and she narrowed her eyes in judgment. "Israeli, right?" He guessed.

Ziva tilted her head slightly, giving him a small nod in response. "Very good," a pause. "Your geography is much better than your self-description…" She halted, realizing he had yet to supply her with his name.

"Tony," his eyes lit up ever so slightly.

Ziva ran her tongue over her teeth, her lips slightly parting after. "Anthony." It was the first time he saw her smile like that. Not only with her lips, but also with her eyes. And though the young Israeli would deny it until it was time for her body to leave the earth and decompose, her cheeks grew some color in them. Some would have even said she was genuinely interested in the man in front of her.

"You know, I'd love to show you around some – …" He turned his gaze to the man he'd forgotten was there the entire time. Though McGee had given Tony plenty of time – based on his own unit of measurement – , their stop was coming up and he was too exhausted to play some sort of wingman after a long week's worth of work.

McGee's hold on the Italian's shoulder remained and when Tony didn't budge, he took it upon himself to pull him back toward the closer exit. "Come on, Tony." He heard a usual under-the-breath whine in response but pressed on. "Gallery Place is next," he said sternly as the train steadied itself into the new station.

Tony fought against him, but undoubtedly lost. With a slight hanging of the head, the Italian began moving backwards toward the exit. His probationary counterpart kept a strong hold on his arm just in case on his way out onto the platform. "It was nice meeting you," Tony pushed out a little louder than necessary before exiting the train car. While embarrassing, his unrelenting attempt made her chuckle before she settled into an empty seat by the window. Her brown eyes watched the two men walk away, seeing them struggle with each other as they headed toward an exit. A light shove came toward the younger agent who almost lost his footing. Ziva, now gone on the continuing green line train, shook her head in amusement. She had never met someone quite like him before.

"God, McGee!" DiNozzo groaned as the two of them walked through the turntable exit doors. "She was probably the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen." He smiled to himself, "Ziva…" the name played on his lips again.

"They're always gorgeous, Tony," McGee returned in retaliation.

The Italian ran his hands over his face once they safely stepped onto the rising escalator. "What if she was the one?" He questioned dramatically to which he received a genuine eye roll. What if she had been the one?


	2. Chapter 2

About two and a half week's time had passed since Ziva had an exchange with a mysterious man on the subway. He was everything she had imagined the stereotypical American man to be – tall, not too dark, and profusely handsome to the point where no one in the D.C. area had to remind him of it. He was confident – overly –, of that she would have bet her life on. Even offered to play Russian roulette with her chances of being right. If there was one thing Ziva could do, it was read a man and his intentions. He – _Anthony _– did not matter now, however. Now, Ziva stood beside a thick tree trunk, a vastness of branches with rich green leaves hovering over her and her Mossad partner protecting them from the rain. She embraced the light wind that the storm brought with it into the metropolitan area, appreciating the fact that it would be far too long before she would be able to experience something like it again in the near future. She never knew where their next task took them – whether to South America, Egypt or even home.

Her wild mane calmed, taking on the frizzy look from the dryness in the east coast air. Ziva didn't mind it, her mind completely elsewhere. She hadn't moved in what seemed at least fifteen minutes, the heels of her combat boots digging into the park soil while she internally debated with herself. The situation they were in wasn't one that she had considered and there were many things that came with that territory. They were on foreign soil for one, technically not legally allowed to proceed with their operation to any measure. Secondly, the man she and Malachi Ben-Gidon had been after for well over a month was lying dead in front of them on the grass field.

"Ziva," her name echoed faintly in her ears. "Ziva," Malachi's voice rang through a little louder.

The trained-since-birth Israeli turned her head to him then, eyes filled with clear conflict. "Mossad will want to know about this new…. development," she voiced just above a whisper as some of the rain fought its way through the tree leaves and onto her face. It was a difficult situation to say the least. Though they were fully prepared to take down one of Mossad's most wanted international terrorists, Ziva wasn't sure whether to take credit for someone else's work or work a new angle. Squatting down beside the body, she waved her hand in request for her partner's cell phone. She made sure to examine the body as she could without touching it and took a few photographs for verification.

"Director David will be pleased nonetheless, I am sure." Malachi's assumption received only a nod from his partner. He was always pleased with whatever she gave him – Ziva was not best known for maintaining a good relationship with her partners. In fact, their careers – it seemed – were quite short and trivial. She had a record in the agency for going through as many partners a year as she did. A selective and demanding soldier, her father raised.

"You are a pleaser, yes?" The younger officer asked him without hesitation in how inappropriate it may have come off. She did some of her best bidding in the most inappropriate of situations. That flew in the badass secret spy world. In America, they often called it sexual harassment.

Malachi's eyebrows rose, his dark eyes burning into her back. "I have…been commended for my successes more often than not." He heard Ziva's audible smirk in response. "I could show you," he offered before crouching down beside her. His hot breath danced on the back of her neck and she slightly wiggled her shoulders in an effort to ignore the sensation.

"I have killed men for much less." She turned her head to the left, her brown eyes meeting with his own warningly.

Handing Malachi the cell phone, Ziva retreated from the body. "I do not appreciate someone else doing my work for me." A pause grew while Ziva began to destroy their footprints by the body. "The police will find him in the morning. Yalla." _Let's go._

The safe house was their next and final destination for the night. Ziva ignored the shivers that ran down her spine and set a mental reminder to dress more according to the weather when the sun rose again.

* * *

><p>The following morning was darkly welcomed in the squad room. The desks in the bullpen sat idly by until their rightful owners finally managed to make it into the office – quite sometime later than usual. Tony DiNozzo was the first to escape the confines of the elevator and run for his leather chair that always sufficed for a decent nap in the middle of a difficult case. An exhausted groan found its way from his throat into audible form as he collapsed at his desk, not caring where his duffle bag was tossed. His hair was a mess – uncombed, which was clearly an issue for a man such as himself – and he was still wearing the same clothes as the day before.<p>

McGee wore quite the same demeanor, saying nothing to the Italian senior agent as he passed his desk onto his own. They had spent well over 24 hours together working in the office, the field, and being assigned to stakeout duty for the remainder of the night. Stakeouts were fun and all, but there was just so much that the two agents could take when it came to each other's presence. Too much geek talk. Too many movie references. Too much judgment on just how many women Tony was currently dating and couldn't remember the names of. Too many opportunities to be called 'Mc-' anything.

"I can't believe I let you live last night," Tony grumbled as he leaned into his drawers looking for a toothbrush and glass for rinsing. His fingers quickly wrapped around a bottle of water conveniently waiting on his desk, the contents of which were easily emptied into the cup. Tony pushed the brush into his mouth and glared in the direction of the probationary agent while he tried to get rid of his deadly morning breath.

Though McGee was not as prepared as his partner, he pulled a box of breath mints out of his bag and popped them in immediately. The overdose of peppermint burned his throat, the strong flavor practically evaporating through his nostrils. "You weren't my first choice to spend the evening with either, Tony." In turn, McGee watched as the senior agent brought the water to rinse out his mouth only to empty the used water and toothpaste into his trashcan. "God, that's disgusting." He couldn't help but comment before turning away out of necessity.

Tony pushed the trashcan away from his desk with his foot, not caring to justify his choice of morning routine. It wasn't like he exactly had a variety of options and going home was out of the question. "You know I had a date with Natalie from human resources last night…" he trailed off in search of a hairbrush to fix one of his best features – his hair. "And instead I was in an old Chevy with you all night, Probie. You didn't even put out," he taunted as he fixed his light brown hair.

McGee raised his eyebrows in response – a challenge. "Her name is Carrie," he corrected him with a brief shake of the head. "You know that's the fifth girl you've technically gone out with this week. That's a record, even for you." The younger agent studied him, wondering if this was entirely normal for him. He hadn't known Tony for too long, and he never really expected anything from him. After all, the man was unpredictable in both his opinions and actions.

The Italian grinned proudly, "Thank you." Officially pleased with his appearance, Tony logged into his account on his computer screen and shifted focus on the search engines he had been working with over the last two weeks. Though he had spent a great amount of time dating casually just as his nature deemed fit, Tony couldn't help but be curious about the young woman he had met – or rather tracked down – on the metro station several weeks ago. He remembered her name and the area that she mentioned she was staying in, but their government search engines seemed to yield no accurate identifications or leads for him to follow through with. "You remember Ziva?"

The younger agent let out a yawn, covering his mouth with one hand and opening a file to work on with the other. "Yup," he confirmed. His eyes focused on the paperwork in front of him, knowing it better to work on that then boost Tony's exhibit of stalking tendencies that were so far unsuccessful. "You know you're not supposed to be using government software to find women to add to your little black book, right?"

"Oh, Probie…Probie," Tony mocked. A short laugh erupted from his lips before he refocused on playing with the search engines displayed on his screen. "You know it's not a little black book. A little black book, well that's for someone like you – I have an entire spreadsheet for things like this."

"And you think that's normal?" He questioned in disbelief.

"It's effective," he returned with a smile to himself. "Whatever gets little DiNozzo through the night." McGee refused to inquire as to whatever that meant, deciding it was not worth the filthy explanations that were probably ready and prepped for him. "Maybe I'm doing something wrong," Tony rose from his chair and approached the probationary agent's desk. He leaned down in front of him, palms spread on the surface. "Come on, McGee. Help me out."

He shifted, clearly hesitating. "Tony…" he exhaled a deep sigh. "This is illegal."

"I'll introduce you to Natalie's…er, sorry – Carrie's friend down at human resources. Come on, McGee – you guys will have a fabulous time together. I heard from Agent Renosa she's quite the wild one." Tony straightened up and adjusted his already worn too long shirt. "On second thought, maybe I should give her a call."

"You want my help or not?" Tony took the immediate opportunity to come around and take a seat behind McGee. The small table he usually used for unfinished paperwork was the perfect seating arrangement to allow him to lean back comfortably while McDigital worked his magic with the things he knew best – computers. "Ziva David…" he typed, reminding himself aloud under his breath.

"Da-veed," Tony quickly amended. "She said she was staying in Columbia Heights. New to the area, but she must have updated her address by now." His green eyes watched eagerly as McGee entered all information requested by the program.

"You remember that but not that I've always ordered cheeseburgers with _no _pickles for the last two years when you go out to grab lunch?"

A hand came up to rub against his forehead unconsciously – the eagerness and mystery wearing on him. A few moments later, McGee's search yielded no results. There were plenty of David's in the area, but none that DiNozzo was looking for at the moment. "How hard is it to find a woman in Washington, D.C.?" Tony dragged out the question hysterically. That query got him a few strange looks from around the office, but the Italian bounced back just as quick. "Don't worry – there's plenty of Anthony DiNozzo Jr. to go around for everyone!"

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs rounded the corner into the bullpen in enough time to catch his senior field agent's declaration. "No one needs any part of you going around the office, DiNozzo." He stopped at his desk without a bothered glance to his two team members and went for his credentials and gun. "Gear up – Beshan's body was found at Rock Creek a half hour ago."

"Someone doing our job for us, boss?" They'd been in search of the international terrorist 'rockstar' for almost a year now. Gibbs didn't reward him with a response and made his way into the elevator.

The two younger agents hurried to their duffle bags from the night before to retrieve their necessities. "I'm a pretty hot commodity, boss," he attempted to justify as he dug through his things. He felt the familiar burn at the back of the head in no time, knowing he'd deserved it. Gibbs was heading into the elevator by the time Tony recovered enough from the sensation he usually referred to as the "American sign of affection". Throwing his backpack over his shoulder and slid through the closing doors, almost running into Gibbs in the process. "Heh," he dryly laughed. "Almost spilled your coffee there, boss." McGee smirked at the confrontation, shaking his head as the elevator door closed shut and they headed down to the lot.

* * *

><p>The body was found just as it left the previous evening. Pristine condition if they wanted to put a positive spin on it.<p>

The smell wasn't the worst they had experienced since day one on the job. There was much appreciation for that. That, and the body had only been there for 9 to 10 hours at the most, according to Ducky. All that was left to do was collect and preserve the evidence they could find, prints, photography, and take everything back to headquarters.

"You wanna print, McGee…" The Italian said in passing. It was more of a statement than anything else. "I'm a sketch man, myself." He patted the supplies he was holding and moved along – as far away from the corpse that the crime scene allowed. Dead man on an early morning before he'd been able to have a delicious jelly donut with the necessary boost of caffeine was not DiNozzo's favorite.

Once everything was secured and the body packaged into the medical examiner's vehicle, they were back on their way. Time to work the leads.

* * *

><p>5:30 AM<p>

Ziva David was up and running earlier that morning. There were not many things to occupy her at their safe house, so she made the decision to run a few miles in the close proximities of the neighborhood. Something she had been lagging in recently due to the instability of their operation. But opportunity struck and she indulged in it. Finally satisfied after an adequate distance and soreness in her legs, Ziva snuck back into their small quarters to find Malachi finishing up a video call with their Mossad superiors. Other than the good exercise, her early morning run served as a source of avoidance when it came to having to update Mossad on their unfulfilled endeavors. She hated to disappoint – to answer for the failings or lack of progress.

Ziva managed to lean against the door and catch her breath before her father spotted her on the screen. He didn't say anything, but she knew. Pushing herself off the door, she faintly smiled in passing to acknowledge his presence. "Boker tov, Director." _Good morning. _"I trust Officer Ben-Gidon has the capabilities to update you? He loves to please." Being the firecracker she was, her small frame quickly disappeared down the hall for a shower before Deputy Director David could object to her feisty behavior.

Malachi had almost finished updating the man when his beloved daughter graced him with her presence. He had almost forgotten what she looked like. Almost. "I hope Ziva is not proving too much to handle," Eli pressed on. As Officer Ben-Gidon was fully aware of from the rumors that never seized to simmer down, Ziva David was known more for her partner count than her upkeep of them.

"Director, please. If anything, Ziva has been handling me." Malachi let out a small smirk after making the admittance. A small shake of the head followed; she was certainly a wild card. "You have raised a great officer, if I may." Eli's face remained as unreadable as when the video call was initiated.

"A warrior," their gray haired leader ultimately agreed. "Keep me updated." The call was ended before Malachi had the chance to express his reassurance in the ability to produce what was expected of him. Eli David was never one for a realistic goodbye, a 'good luck', or even a 'good work' remark. His officers did not expect any more or any less. It was what it was, as Ziva had often reminded him [Malachi].

6:55 AM

Refreshed, Ziva emerged from her bedroom – hair dried and typically dressed. Her dark cargo pants hugged her curves just fine and an equally flattering top hugged her waist. She reached for her leather jacket and pulled it on for extra warmth before focusing on tightly tying together the laces of her favorite pair of boots. "Anything important?" Her voice broke, finally questioning the conversation Malachi had been engaged in with her father. He cleared his throat before looking at her.

"He had a few suggestions."

Ziva moved across the living room into the kitchen for a quick cup of coffee before they'd be on their way. Her brown eyes settled on her partner's over the rim of her white mug as she slurped a sip of the caffeine into her mouth and let out a satisfied sigh. The thin line of her lips disappeared and was replaced with a smile that she rarely exposed. "Elaborate." She fed her caffeine addiction with another sip while Malachi rose to meet her in the kitchen. When she lowered her half empty mug, he was standing in front of her – elbows leaning on the counter while he weighed the ideas in his head.

"He suggested we go to NCIS," he rubbed the stubble covering his face. "He knows that they have been looking for Beshan, and Jenny Shepard is their new Director so it is the perfect opportunity to take them up on the favor they owe Mossad." Ziva hummed in response before releasing the handle of the mug that occupied her morning energy onto the counter between them.

"I did not know that," the younger Israeli admitted.

Malachi raised an eyebrow at her, finally feeling proud at one-uping her. "I thought you and Shepard go way back. I have heard you speak fondly of her in the past."

"Yes," Ziva nodded in agreement. "I saved her a time or two during an operation in Cairo. But that was…" Her mind wavered to the past, "A lifetime ago." She had gathered a pool of connections and favors to call in at any moment over her years as an operative, so it did not seem to present itself as a problem. After all, an American agency putting forth a helpful hand for Mossad would speak with nothing but a positive volume. She supposed it was their best route to take before Mossad was involuntarily uncovered for working an operation on foreign soil.

Her damp curls heavily framed her face as she considered all of their options. "I will call her on the way." Ziva consumed the last drops of her French Roast while Malachi fixed the collar of his blazer before they were on their way, the Navy Yard their destination.

* * *

><p>Tony and McGee made their way back into the bullpen while Gibbs disappeared upstairs to the Director's office. The two younger agents didn't question the bossman's constant disappearance acts and decided to get to work on oncovering any potential leads. McGee zoned everything and everyone else out as usual, focusing on the credit card and IP address information in front of him. "Did you get any results while we were out?" The older agent inquired suddenly. Not knowing where or who his mystery woman really was continued to slowly eat away at him. He just had to know.<p>

"What?" He received a furrowing of the eyebrows in return.

"Ziva. She couldn't have moved from Columbia Heights in less than two weeks, right? I mean, those databases update like clockwork," DiNozzo reasoned aloud though still awaiting the probationary agent's agreement on the matter. "If she moved, I'd know."

"Were you planning on stalking me, Anthony?" A pair of combat boots and dress shoes suddenly joined them in the bullpen. Though she was extremely shocked to see him, she played it off as best as she could. Ziva felt Malachi's eyes suddenly trained on her, obvious confusion about how she was acquainted with an American law enforcement officer that he had not heard the first thing about.

Tony's eyes trailed up from her sandy boots to the wild curls that complimented her distinct features. "Ziva," he remembered to breathe when he rose from his chair finally. The Italian almost lost his footing in his attempt to turn in the direction of the mysteriously familiar female voice that rang through the bullpen. "It's Tony. Anthony is my father – imagine the greyish hair, the Rick Blaine attire. That's just…no, not right for a man his age." His hands waived around as he tried to reason his discomfort. "Especially since his last girlfriend was probably about your age. So, you can call me Tony. Definitely Tony." Going on his long tangent, the Italian senior field agent failed to acknowledge the Middle Eastern man at Ziva's side.

They blew over the introductions. Instead - her eyes narrowed naturally at his dramatic explanation, making the decision to hide her amusement with the man who had managed to intrigue her. Ziva watched him come around from around his desk to meet her at the bullpen's entrance, stopping a few centimeters too close. Their eyes wrestled with each other, greens on browns. "But as stalking goes - that's mighty presumptuous of you, Ms. Da-veed."

"I only give credit where it is truly due." She took the opportunity to blow a stray curl out of her face as they remained standing face-to-face, her hot breath dancing against his skin as a result. A natural flirt, she was. Ziva slid past him to make herself more comfortable, and before he realized she was already situated against his desk – her legs slung one over the other much like her arms across her chest. "We are here to see Jenny Shepard."

She had him the minute she sat down.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

**Wow. It's been a long while, and this one shot definitely turned into something more. I've realized I am probably am not - and never will be - a one-shot type of writer. Unless the perfect opportunity arises, of course. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the second chapter! I think it's alright and it could've been better. I am always a very harsh critic of my own work when it comes to something I put out there. **

**Feel free to make suggestions plot/idea-wise. I'd love to incorporate what I can and go into a direction that readers would like to see. **

**Penny for your thoughts?**

**Dina**

**P.S. **

**I also have another AU piece in mind that I want to start working on soon if my muse permits. And - SURPRISE - a one shot piece that hasn't left me for the last week. Look out for those! And an update on "Unexpected Alliance". I know I haven't been around and I apologize! **

**I appreciate everyone for sticking around. :) **


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